Amphigory of the Mind
by Enitsu Emria
Summary: He saved her once for reasons even he could not comprehend... years later she saved him to pay a debt she could stand to be unpaid. And against all sense and reason...They were drawn to eachother. Dark themes. Please R & R :)
1. War

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing! Harry Potter, all characters mentioned in this story are the property of the great J.K. Rowling

**A.N.: **I haven't written D/Hr or anything for that matter in like seven years. I just took up reading fan fiction again early this year and reaized that my 14 year HP addiction has not wavered. Also, my original OTP D/Hr that has always been the center of my drabbles will also be the center of this story. I have never finished any of my fanfictions and I want this to be the first I ever finish. It will be a really short one though. Enjoy! R and R.

**AMPHIGORY of the MIND**

The first time she saw him (In the metaphorical sense) was during the war.

There were voices all around, cries of anguish and triumph all meshed together in a cacophony of chaos. But she felt as if she were far away from all that as a strange warmth enveloped her.

What she felt was not unlike the feeling you get when you start a good dream, like the feeling of a good meal after a week of starving, or the feeling of a tight embrace from a loved one. She welcomed it… but then, as she willed herself to drift to the blissful unconsciousness it seemed that the voices grew louder.

It wasn't only the voices that were pulling her from her slumber; there was pain as well… a strange crushing pain as if she bore something on her chest. She shifted uncomfortably and found that she could not move. There was also something strange she felt on her face. Some sort of sticky liquid was dripping onto the space between her eyes. Her face felt slick with the unknown liquid.

She scrunched her nose and opened her eyes.

She saw blue. And red… a lot of red.

Blue glassy dead eyes stared at her from bloody sockets.

The pain in her chest was from the weight of a couple of dead bodies piled up on her, and she was now face to face with what seemed to have been Susan Bones. With all the blood it was hard to tell…

It took everything in her not to scream.

She suddenly remembered where she was. Muggle London, off with a number of women from the Order to gather supplies to bring back to headquarters when they were intercepted by a band of deatheaters that cornered them in the quiet suburban park as they were on their way home. They were outnumbered and outdueled and she silently cursed herself for not ensuring that the disillusionment charms were recasted after they wore off as they neared headquarters.

She wondered to herself as the blood from Susan's head ran down her face if she was the only one left alive. A tear slipped down her cheek as she realized how the Order would grieve tonight yet again.

After a while, the noise died down and she shivered in the stillness. No more curses flew in the air and all she could hear were the footsteps of the murderers who slew her friends. She clenched her fists… How could they be so heartless?

She looked to her sides and could not spot her wand… or any wand for that matter. A summoning spell would be too risky if she were to be heard. With her heart thumping in her chest, she decided to stay still and wait for them to leave.

At that moment Susan's body was pushed off her and she found herself looking at steely grey eyes through a mask. She froze.

She knew there were only two possible people who had those eyes.

She stared for a moment in speechless shock until she saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes. She had half hoped that all the blood and grime masked her identity.

"Everything alright there Malfoy?" someone called from afar.

Her head was throbbing and she could swear her heart had jumped up into her throat. On any other regular day she would not hesitate to curse the man standing over her or hit him senseless with anything she could get her hands on. But today was different. She was wandless, pinned down by dead bodies, surrounded by enemies and possibly injured to an unknown extent. She seriously felt like she was staring death right in the face.

"Yes," his voice was strained; bordering on fear and doubt. Her eyes widened in shock as the body of Susan Bones was dragged over her face concealing her identity. "Just a useless bitch from the Order…all dead like the others" he said as he walked away with the other deatheaters.

She breathed in sharply.

Her mind rang with questions.

Had she just been spared?

She decided ultimately as she summoned her wand and slipped out from under the fallen that that was the day hated him the most.

Because that was the day she found she was wrong about him. And she was never wrong.


	2. Trial

**AMPHIGORY of THE MIND**

**2**

The first time he saw her (in the metaphorical sense) was during his trial.

His hands were bound with magic and he was being escorted into the chamber where in a few minutes, he knew would be sentenced to life in Azkaban.

The chamber was cold and damp, much like the mossy forest where he stayed in hiding for a number of months after the Dark Lord had fallen to the haughty Boy Who Lived, until he decided he could not take it anymore and just wanted to die.

He was found ultimately by the dogs of the ministry and when he faced them he cast away his wand in surrender and simply smirked. "Took you long enough."

He was taken to a detention chamber and kept there for three days before they told him he would be kept in Azkaban until he was to be tried for war crimes.

And today was the day. The day they would pass a predetermined judgment on him just to make themselves feel better. He gave up thinking about the hypocrisy of the ministry ages ago. In a war both sides took lives, both sides tortured for information. After the war, how is it that the side that won had the privilege of convicting and judging blindly just to justify that they too destroyed lives?

What did they know? It's not them who housed a barely human entity in their own houses for months and were sick with fear and sleeplessness knowing one wrong move could mean their lives. They did not know how wretched he felt knowing he had to kill to keep his parents alive. They did not know his mother had been tortured anyway regardless of how much he killed for her. . . They did not know, and yet today they saw him as nothing but scum who did not deserve to walk the streets of the wizarding world.

"Tsk" he scoffed "Figures…"

"Silence Malfoy" grunted the bailiff as he was pushed into the room where a number of people and the Wizengamot had convened.

He did not fear the people in the room anymore. What was there to be afraid of if the uncertainty of his sentence was not there? He knew what would happen today and he would welcome his fate with open arms in utter and complete silence.

He kept his head down; he did not care to see which dogs of the ministry were there. He did not care to hear what they had to say and did not care to listen as they read out his crimes. All he wanted was to get everything over with so he could be carted off to Azkaban and start living his life sleeping on a mangy cot with someone else's urine.

The Minister of Magic was about to speak. This was it. This was his sentence… He closed his eyes in nonchalant anticipation.

"Wait!" said a strained feminine voice. He opened his eyes and looked for the source of the interruption.

"Draco Malfoy cannot be sentenced to life" continued the voice. The owner of it stepped forward out of the crowd of spectators with her trademark bushy brown hair and bright hazel eyes. "On September 21, 1998, I came to London with a few others," she started tentatively. "to gather supplies for the Order, when we were … ambushed"

He saw her brow furrowed in concentration and in anguish at the memory. "Every single one of my companions were brutally murdered… torture curses… flying everywhere…"

"Malfoy uncovered me under the bodies of my slain companions. . .and clearly seeing that I was alive draped a dead body over me concealing my identity." She finished with a breath.

"He saved my life…" she said looking at him directly. He blinked and swallowed abruptly. The room echoed in an uproar with the sudden revelation. The minister was surrounded by members of the wizengamot giving their advice and the audience seemed crazed with intrigue.

He didn't care about the noise. He drowned them out as he looked at her intently as if to ask "Why?"

"Silence!" boomed the minister as he continued to say he has come to a decision to reconvene due to new evidence presented. Draco did not know what was said… he was lost in his thoughts and the anger welling up inside him.

That was the day he hated her the most.

Because that was the day he thought he knew his fate for sure. And that was the day she changed it.


	3. Paper

**AMPHIGORY OF THE MIND**

**3**

The next time she saw him was on the DaIly Prophet.

She pulled her cloak tighter to her neck as the Autumn chill ran through the streets of Diagon Alley.

On this particular day, the streets were buzzing with the controversial early release of the infamous Draco Mafoy from Azkaban.

The prophet was very vague as to what overturned the Wizengamot's decision to give him the life sentence a year before and it said he had been released on counts of good behavior and a great service to the community.

As Hermione left Diagon Alley with the prophet clutched in her hand she knew the decision had something to do with her testimony.

The testimony was not difficult to give… it was the truth after all. She saved him from an unjust sentence because he saved her life once. It was a debt to be repaid.

And she was glad she did not have to think of the day he saved her all those years ago and rake her brain for his motives. She had saved him from a fate worse than death, and as far as she was concerned; the debt had been paid.

She thought nothing more about it as she entered the red phone booth to start her day's work at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. With curt nods to the people in the department, she scurried into the solace of her office where she closeted herself on most days.

The office was a bit shabby, but it was her haven for when the outside world got too chaotic and she wanted to escape from how the wizarding world went about cleaning up the mess that the six year war had wrought.

The room's with numerous shelves full of books and a few of her trinkets she had collected from her brief stints abroad on random cases she had been assigned to. It had a small lounge in the center for her clients and a large oak desk in the middle of the room with a red swivel chair.

A few moments into her office and something made her stop.

Today Hermione Granger was bothered.

Her usually clear oak desk had a huge box on it.

She approached her desk slowly and opened the lone envelope that lay on the box. Her eyes scanned curiously at the words.

_M. H. Granger _

_ A debt remains to be paid. Use what you find here to bring the evil in the world to justice._

_K. Shacklebolt_

She quickly magically evanesced the box and its contents unraveled on her table. Stacks and stacks of parchment littered her desk and floor. She frowned. _What was all this?_

Picking up the documents hurriedly she recognized a single hurried scrawl on all pieces of parchment. Some of them had tactical diagrams, some were drawings of random artifacts, there were hand drawn maps. Most of the documents though contained names.

She shuffled hurriedly and went through the stacks. Her eyes widened.

These were names of previous Death Eaters.

Atrocities they had committed during the war.

Names of victims. She swallowed.

Causes of the deaths.

Places where the bodies were thrown.

She blinked unable to believe her eyes.

These ware all the monsters who managed to escape a prolonged sentence in Azkaban because there was not enough evidence to convict them or because they were influential enough to corrupt the judiciary system.

What she had just received from the minister was all the possible evidence in the world to be able to put these people away for a life time.

A trickle of sweat fell from her brow. She could do what she had sought out to do in the first place when she joined the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She could now, as Kingsley had put it; bring the evil in the world to justice.

She had to hurry, where could she possibly begin? Excitement bubbled in her veins as she started to work.

After a few minutes of organizing and scurrying in circles around her office she stopped.

Wait… Something was definitely wrong…

Who sent these to the Minister?

Like instinct, her mind reeled and almost instantly, her eyes drifted to the discarded prophet she left on one of the chairs when she swooped into her office.

"_A great service to the community"_

A hollow breath left her gaping mouth.

_It couldn't be…_

She sank down to her swivel chair. _A debt remains to be paid._

Silently, she hated him again. She was wrong yet again. 


	4. Release and Engagement

**AMPHIGORY OF THE MIND**

**4**

The next time he saw her was on the day he was released from Azkaban

On a cold and dreary winter night, when sky chose to let down a rather unpleasant string of icefall and the wind cooed with the insistence of an unyielding banshee, Draco Malfoy was set free from the wizarding prison.

The scowl on his face deepened as the guard threw him his broken wand on his way out. He stared blankly at the broken piece of wood in his hands wordlessly.

He knew what to expect after he had sent the whirlwind of information about all of Voldemort's cohorts to the ministry. There would be people who would be suspicious of his involvement and in turn there would be people who would try to make his life a living hell.

He sighed. He had done his piece; he had sold out all of his old accomplices just like he had dropped all of the lies that he had been raised to believe in when his father was murdered by his own kind in front of him.

His father who had been nothing but maniacally faithful to the Dark Lord. . . The Dark Lord who invaded his home and squandered almost half of the Malfoy fortune on fighting for his dream of a pureblooded elitist regime. The hypocritical halfblooded Dark Lord who detested that muggle side of him so in turn tore apart so many lives pureblood and muggle alike.

Draco faltered and laughed to himself weakly as he stepped closer to the edge of the cliff where he could see the angry waves lapping at the foot of the island prison.

He laughed at himself, how far he had fallen and how satirical it all was. And perhaps the most ironic part of it was, even if he had renounced all his previous beliefs and did the ministry of Magic "a great service", nothing would ever change society's view of him even in this world of _light _after the darkness and he would perpetually be hated by the two sides of the table. . .

Hated by the light for what he was. And hated by the darkness for what he had become.

Because of that knowledge… he chose to simply not care what the world thought of his actions.

Though there was someone whose actions he had taken a long year in prison to think about. Someone who had plucked him out of the spiraling doom he was headed for, and set him back into this world that hated him. Someone who invaded his dreams as often as that awful snake and horrifying fiendfyre lapping at his feet in that year of incarceration. Someone who he had to ask _why._

As he inhaled the icy air one last time in the prison he had found a year's worth of solace in, he touched the portkey that would send him back to the Wizarding world.

The next time she saw him was the day she got engaged

She smiled to herself as she walked the London streets savoring the bliss that overwhelmed her because of the events of the evening.

Tonight she had been conned into thinking she and her friends would merely have a quick celebratory dinner marking her 10th successful case. Just a few seconds after she had taken her place at the round table at the fancy wizard restaurant, her friends quieted down with knowing smiles as enchanted violins rose and started playing in the background. A certain ginger clasped her hand as he took his place at her feet.

'_I wanted to share this moment with those who mean the most to us.' _He whispered so that only she could hear.

'_Tell me that I am not alone in thinking that we can spend the rest of our lives together if you'd only consent at this moment. Hermione Jane Granger, will you marry me?'_

Everyone held their breaths in anticipation as blood rushed to her face. Her mind reeled and at that moment. She could think of nothing that could make her happier as she replied swiftly with a breathless '_Yes' _

Now as she walked home remembering what had transpired at the restaurant right before the boy in question and the other Aurors were called to an emergency meeting, she sighed in contentment. Her finger was now adorned with a simple silver band with a small sapphire encircled by diamonds and she tinkered with it.

Everything was perfect.

Or so she thought. . .

As she approached the path to her apartment building she noticed a frightfully thin man in tattered robes staggering over to her lawn and about to collapse on the snow. She sprinted to his side almost instantly.

She caught him just in time and cradled his upper body on her lap. "Oh dear" With utmost care she peeled away the hood of his robes and let out an audible gasp. Her reaction centered on three reasons.

The man was pale and atrociously emaciated.

There were gashes on his cheeks which were still open and the dark blood stained his wisply yellow hair making the strands a murky pink.

She knew the man. Of course. . . and he was Draco Malfoy.

He opened his eyes and settled on her face shinning with recognition and a touch of smugness. With a strained voice he spoke. "_W-w-why… did… you save me?" _

And she swore that at that moment her heart stopped. She opened her mouth to speak and yet nothing came out. His words came out with such pain and emptiness that she wondered if she really did him some good or not.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head and mercifully passed out.

"_Shit" _

Drawing her wand out of her robes she levitated him into her apartment.

Her mind reeled. She did not know if he could hate him at that moment.


	5. Drawn

**A/N: **_Thanks guys for the warm feedback. I know the chapters are pretty short and choppy, I'd like to try to make it less dragging as compared t my last *unfinished*story seven years ago Forbearance. It kind of seems easier to finish this way. XD XOXO please Read and Review. _

**AMPHIGORY OF THE MIND**

**5**

The next time they saw each other was when he drawn from his deep slumber into the reality of her warm guest bedroom and soft double bed by the searing pain on his face as she tried to cauterize the wounds to stop the bleeding.

He grabbed her wrist even before he opened his eyes and she responded with an audible gasp.

" _Granger…" _he said crisply as he eyed her with his sleepy gaze.

She exhaled as she regained her composure and snatched her hand from his grasp _"Malfoy . . ." _Standing up abruptly she crossed the room to set her healing potions and materials on a table positioned beside the door. She dipped a bloody wash cloth in a porcelain basin to rinse off the red that had sullied it from when she treated his wounds. When she was done she sat on a nearby chair and set her eyes back on her unexpected house guest.

Draco closed his eyes as fatigue overtook him and sank into the bed as the awkward silence thickened the tension in the room even more. He thought for a moment how exactly he had gotten into the situation he was in now, from the moment he arrived in a secluded spot in Diagon Alley with a broken wand and a few gashes from the fall he had taken when he lost his balance (he had not traveled by magic for a year after all), to the indiscreet stares and whispers he got as he walked the streets to Gringotts only to find out that his account was still frozen by orders from the ministry, to the teenage wizards he had encountered in Knockturn Alley who decided it would be a good idea to throw a few curses at the wandless ex convict who by some twist of fate found himself back in the Wizarding world that hated him.

He was drawn out of his reverie as she cleared her throat.

"_Why did you come here?" _she asked tentatively as if she already knew the answer and yet expected to hear something else.

He sighed. _"To taste your coveted cooking perhaps…" _

She stood up in the haughtiest manner she could muster and glared at him. _"Don't patronize me Malfoy…"_

He sat up with effort and met her gaze with equal pride. "_Wouldn't dream of it Granger…"_

"_So why…"_

"_Before I decided to doze off on the snow outside your house, I believe I asked you a question…" _he cut her off as he forced himself out of the bed and stumbled as he tried to fight the weakness in his legs.

She immediately ran to his side and caught him before he fell. "_Are you insane? You are injured and weak. Stay in bed and rest" _she hissed as she pulled him back to sit on the bed. He weakly allowed her to push him back into a lying position as it dawned on him that he neither had the strength nor will to even try fighting her.

Internally he was laughing at himself. Wandless and bleeding, unable to walk and at the mercy of a mudblood. How the mighty had fallen.

Once she had gotten him to lay back down she sat on the edge of the bed and regarded him with a stern expression that masked her suppressed concern. The war had done this to her. She would look upon an injured wizard and feel the urge to treat and heal them regardless of the side they fought for. No one deserved to suffer at the mercy of another. All of them at the Order knew that. . .and that was what set them apart from the bloodthirsty dogs of the Dark Lord.

"_I don't belong here Granger, just answer my question and I'll go…" _he rasped suddenly interrupting her thoughts.

She shifted uncomfortably on the bed as she started to draw the covers over him.

"_I know exactly where you came from and based on those injuries I could probably guess what happened to you before you found yourself on my lawn… please Malfoy, stop being a stubborn little git and go to sleep." _

"_Grange… " _he stopped abruptly as she pushed him down on the bed and tucked him under the flowery sheets.

"_I don't know why I saved you Malfoy. Maybe it was just because you spared me back in the war and I wanted a debt repaid, maybe I was just being self-righteous or maybe it's a Gryffindor thing." _he scoffed at the reference. She sighed "_I thought just wanted to give you another chance, yet I'm afraid that I wronged you even more by brining you back in the Wizarding world…" _She let her fingers graze over one of the bruises on his arm and he flinched with the contact. He regarded her silently with curiosity. She continued "_ …and then you sent me the evidences… and I seriously don't know anymore… I don't know what to tell you."_

He closed his eyes and gave in to the exhaustion that racked his body and unwillingly drifted off to sleep.

She breathed as she realized he had fallen asleep. "_I don't like being wrong Malfoy… and I don't like not knowing. . ."_

Standing up to cross the room she opened the door and darkened the room with a flick of her wand.

"Me too Granger. . ." he whispered sleepily as he gave in to oblivion.


	6. Window

**AMPHIGORY of the MIND**

**6**

The next time she saw him was through her kitchen window through her peripheral vision.

She tried so hard not to follow the retreating man's figure with her eyes as he walked away from her house trekking the snowy ground outside. . . She couldn't go after him now, and scold him for leaving when she knew he was in no condition to walk around, because her fiancé was standing in her kitchen doorway with a perplexed look on his face wondering why she was so fidgety.

Her mind raced with the violence of a restrained dragon, and her motherly sense of wanting to finish treating him was driving her mad.

"_Alright there love?" _Ron asked with a look of concern. His blue eyes glinted in the dim kitchen light as he tried to catch her gaze. She could not look at him now of course; guilt was eating away at her. . .she could not tell him the truth. . .

She decided to turn away from the door to suppress all urges to just run out of it and chase Draco Malfoy down while giving him an earful of all the reasons he could not and _should_ not be walking around hours after his release from prison. . . not to mention he was wandless. _Oh Merlin_, the thought of the number of people who wanted him dead at that moment was driving her insane.

Even the thought of herself and why she cared enough to make it drive her insane magnified her anxiety.

"_Y-y-yes. I just need … to go to the loo. Help yourself to some tea" _she mumbled as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek _"I'll be back." _and she left him in confused stupor.

Retreating to the hall, she made a bee-line for the guest room and almost tore open the door.

She stopped.

He was definitely gone, yet it was also as if he was never there. The potions were arranged neatly on the table beside the door and the covers were fixed as well.

Her mind was alive with so many emotions.

Anger at Malfoy for just leaving while he was injured. Infuriation at Ron for showing up at the most inconvenient time. Guilt and frustration at herself for feeling that she was actually worried about Malfoy. . . Guilt dominating her mainly because she knew she had helped him avoid Azkaban for life when she knew the world would not be good to him after his release. She felt forlorn when she saw the extent of his injuries from the curses, and even more so when she saw his broken wand. What if he was killed tonight? Why did she even care!?

She stepped into the room tentatively and breathed in the smell of her musky healing potion and her lemon muggle detergent she liked to use on all her cloths. Somewhere among the mixture of scents she could have sworn she could smell a tiny bit of him in the air. Even amidst the grime and dirt she had to scourgify off him while she was treating his wounds, she could smell a touch of rain and grass when she came close to him.

Rain as murky as his eyes… and grass as the green that he wore so well back when they were teenagers.

She sat on the bed and sighed. Although just as she lay her palms on the neatly arranged covers she felt something hard on the bed under the covers. She turned to pry off the covers to see what was there.

His broken wand.

Examining the two pieces and runner her fingertips across the splintered edges, she realized something. . . The wand was brown. . . and as she looked more closely she realized, that it was made of holly.

She stood up immediately and dropped the pieces of wood on the bed.

_Harry… _she had to see Harry.


	7. Six Point Five: Hawthorne

**A/N: **Hey guys, this is chapter 6.5. It's a filler since you guys were wondering about the wand and my ever faithful reviewer Konadrys was wondering about Harry's reaction. All chapters were supposed to only center on Draco and Hermione's interaction after the war which in my mind lasted a good 4 years XD. Enjoy… read and review :3

**AMPHIGORY of the MIND**

**6.5**

Her hands were cupped against a mug of warm chocolate as she quietly racked her brain on how to tactfully dissuade her best friend from throwing a fit and telling her she had gone completely bonkers.

"_You need what!?"_ exclaimed Harry.

Hermione exhaled and met his eyes evenly as she continued trying to draw the warmth from the cup. In truth, she did that so he would not see her hands shaking.

"_Draco Malfoy's original wand. . ." _she said as casually as she could make it.

Hawthorne. She was sure of it. Malfoy's wand was made of Hawthorne wood, not Holly. Before she even convinced herself to finally knock on Number Twelve Grimauld Place, that was the word that kept resonating in her mind. _Hawthorne_.

The wand had never been returned to Malfoy after the incident at the Malfoy Manor years ago. It was with Harry all along. Now, she wanted to give it back to him, because she was peculiarly disturbed that he was out there alone with his assets frozen and without a wand. At least, that was what she kept telling herself.

Damn. She silently swore as she sipped her drink

Harry Potter took a seat directly in front of her and ran his hands through his ever messy jet black hair. It seemed an effort for him to even utter his next word.

"_Why?"_

She inhaled and lay the cup on the oak coffee table in the middle of Number 12 Grimauld place's living room.

She cleared her throat met her best friend's eyes with a hint of defiance.

"_I regret putting him in the position he is in now." _she started as Harry's brows rose upon hearing her statement.

"_I don't understand."_

She once again took the mug of chocolate and swirled the contents taking a breath before she spoke again.

"_My testimony may have saved his life. But it put him at odds with a lot of dangerous people that may still be in favor of Pureblood elitism. The knowledge that he not only failed to kill but concealed me during that raid will not only put him on the hit list of the Dark Lord's old supporters but also not help him not that he's out of Azkaban."_she looked at his green questioning eyes _"The prison guard broke his wand. The ministry still has the Malfoy Vault frozen… and my testimony, the same that was supposed to spare him from life in Azkaban will be useless… if… of he is killed."_

She took a swig of the chocolate and lay the glass back on the coffee table. "_If he is killed Harry, no one will care. . .even our side won't care Harry. Our side."_

Harry sighed and took her hand which she had not noticed had balled into a fist. She looked agitated now that she had said her piece. _"I hate to admit it… but you're right. Sometimes, it sickens me what brand of justice is being served these days. Even by our side"_ He squeezed her hand and she smiled in return.

Harry Potter pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"_I'll get the wand."_ He said as he rose from the chair and started toward the hall. Steps away from the door, he turned around and faced her again. When he spoke again his face assumed an expression of unyielding stubbornness.

"_I hate to sound immature. . . But I do hope Hermione that guilt is the only emotion driving you to give him back his wand..."_

_It doesn't matter what emotion is driving me right now. _

"_It's the right thing to do Harry."_

"_I hope it is, for your sake."_


	8. Midas' Glass

**AMPHIGORY of the MIND**

**7**

The next time they saw each other was at Midas' Glass.

It had been months since he had been released from Prison and he managed to track down his mother after he discovered the Manor was uninhabited but still maintained by the House Elves loyal to the family.

Narcissa Malfoy had been living in one of the Malfoy properties in Cornwall; one of the smallest they owned but by far the most homely.

His mother met him with a teary welcome when he knocked on her door one rainy day in November. He looked destitute as the accounts were still frozen, and it ultimately broke her heart to see her only child who had been forced into fighting for a cause that cost him so much with the same blank expression it held ever since her husband had perished.

Wizened by the war yet radiant as she always was, Narcissa went about her days maintaining the small home she had arranging the gardens, decorating the interior and having tea with some of her close friends. She also liked visiting pre-wizarding schools once in a while just to watch the children play rejoicing in the fact that they were free to do just that now that the war was over.

To Draco, she was the image of the woman she was before the war, and before everything went to hell, except that this time, she never wore anything but black.

Black like the name she had before she married his father; his father who she will forever mourn with her black veils and petticoats, her ebony bodices and robes. He was sure of it when he opened her dressing room one day and found that his mother's wardrobe was devoid of all the color it used to have. No more peaches and pastels, no more chiffons and satins. His father's death killed something in her too, and Draco hated to see her as she was; smiling and occupied on all of her days, yet always wearing that same infernal black.

So when she invited him to live a quiet life with her in the country side, he most politely refused.

Once the ministry had lifted all holds on his Gringotts Vault, he came back to London to get a new wand and find a secluded house where he could quietly go about living his life.

One night, when he had tired of reading in his mini study and Blaise had blown him off for some Czech witch, he decided to go out on the town and have a few drinks alone. Dressed in his favorite black overcoat, he apparated with a crack into a dark alley next to a strip of muggle pubs.

There was one place at the junction at the end of the street that he knew to be owned by a wizard.

The bar was called Midas' Glass, and it was decorated in the most ridiculously appalling combination of gold and tangerine.

Draco laughed to himself; he was reduced to entering the muggle districts where he knew the likelihood of him being attacked by the remaining dark lord fanatics or victims of the war was significantly decreased.

He sat down at the darkest corner of the bar and ordered a firewhisky from the old witch who he had become somewhat friendly with on his occasional visits.

"_Alone tonight dearie?" _she said as she placed a bottle of firewhisky before him. He nodded with a small smile. She leaned over as she always did just after she served his drink and said _"Everything will fall in to place in its own time" _and she left with a smile.

Draco closed his eyes. What more could possibly happen to him?

She stumbled into the muggle pub with her trademark disheveled hair after a night of trying to get away from her friends who insisted she drink more on her bachelorette party. Minutes before, she had ditched them saying she was feeling sick and said hurried goodbyes to them ignoring the shrill whining and drunken persistence from the women.

She sat at a table on the corner of the pub and hailed the waiter asking for a mai-tai with a couple of cherries. Already slightly intoxicated she downed the drink and ordered another.

Sighing to herself, she realized that she did not want a bachelorette party like she initially thought; she just wanted to drink. . . preferably alone.

Hermione Granger hadn't felt the urge to drink herself silly in a long time. The only occasions when she wanted to be in the foolish stage of intoxication was when she wanted her mind to shut up. When she wanted to stop over thinking because she felt it would drive her crazy.

She was sure, that if there was a period in her life that would drive her insane, it would be this.

The month before she got married.

Three. She had downed three glasses of.

It was not that she did not love Ron, it was not that at all. She adored him, from his bright red hair to the little freckles that just bunched up when he wrinkled his nose. She loved how he could always make her laugh and how he had always been there for her and he would always will if they got married.

It was just _her._

It was Hermione and her stubborn sense of adventure that kept telling her that if she married him now her life would come to a screeching halt. She feared that she would eventually have to stop working so she could be with their future children, how she might be less informed in wizarding affairs if she stayed at home all day, how she would see less of him each day, how she might eventually become like Molly Weasley screeching at their children for every misdeed they commit. . .

_Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. _She said as she shook her head. So many ridiculous thoughts were running through her mind when all she wanted was some peace!

Seven. She had drank seven glasses.

"_I wonder…" _said an all too familiar voice "_if you have taken an unexpected liking to Lovegood and are talking to the nargles in your head Granger"_

She opened her eyes in surprise.

Of course it was him.

"_Mind if I sit with you?"_ he asked. She exhaled and shook her head. The environment was swaying and her mind was delightfully cloudy thus she did not trust herself to argue in a situation like this.

As her unexpected companion sat across her she took the time to see that the blank and tired expression he wore in October when she last saw him at her house had not left him. He may have been given access to his vault and seemed to have stayed out of the public eye these few months yet he still held that melancholy expression that had seemed to replace the smugness he was known for back at Hogwarts.

"_I can't really say I'm up for conversation tonight Malfoy" _she said unsteadily. He smirked.

"_Agreed." _he said amusedly as he clinked two of the seven empty glasses together._ "I'm not sure there can be much conversation when you seem hell bent on drinking yourself into a stupor."_

Hermione rolled her eyes. _"Sadly, I did not expect to have this pleasant conversation with you Malfoy, If I had known that I would be in your good graces tonight then I may have restrained myself" _she huffed as she took a satiric swig of her cocktail…

"_Glad to be in your ever agreeable mood Granger." _He said with a sigh as he rose to leave.

Hermione's unsteady vision noticed him gesturing to leave and before she knew it, a hand shot out and reached for his arm. Her hand.

He stopped abruptly and met her glazed eyes. _"Wait, don't go…" _she said unsurely silently scolding herself as the words came out. To her surprise he sat back down across her and sipped his drink in silence.

After a few moments of silence, in her dizzy disposition, she found her voice and spoke to him again. _"Glad to see you've regained control of your fortune"_

At that he laughed so hard that a number of people around them began to stare. Her eyes widened in surprise. She wasn't sure she had ever heard him laugh like that before. _"I wasn't sure your friends at the ministry would ever let me see my vault again. For a few days after I left your little cottage, I seriously thought all was lost."_

She blinked. Malfoy admitting he had a moment of despair. This was priceless.

"_You seem stunned Granger. Never thought you'd see the day did you?"_ he motioned for the waiter to serve them another round of drinks _"That makes two of us."_

Raising her eyes to his she smiled a bit. The irony of it all seemed all too much. Here she was, on the night of her bachelorette party, sitting in a pub in muggle London with non-other than the infamous Draco Malfoy.

"_Why didn't you kill me Malfoy? During the war. . . when you found me. . ."_

He scoffed _"Sorry to disappoint you Granger, but I don't know"_ he took a swing at his bottle of scotch.

She smiled _"Well that makes two of us then"_

And at that moment, when their eyes connected in a haze of alcohol and nostalgia, they saw the other with a whole new light.


End file.
